Missing Portrait
by Scarabimi
Summary: Mary is lost. Very, extremely, helplessly lost. Her painting has somehow ended up in the mysterious Witch's House, deep in the forest. Will she be able to get home? Does 'home' even exist anymore? Okay, I suck at summaries I know. Sequel to 'Forgotten Portrait' I really hope you all like it. DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY IS RATED T FOR A REASON. Be prepared for GORE, and lots of it !
1. Prologue - The Witch's House

**DISCLAIMER:** This story may include descriptive and intense gore, read at your own risk~!

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**Author Note:**

Well, here we are! The sequel to 'Forgotten Portrait'! I really hope you all like it~! Feedback is ABSOLUTELY welcome. Please review and tell me your opinions! It was actually after a long conversation with someone who had posted a review on Forgotten Portrait that I decided to continue this!

YOUR OPINIONS ARE VALUED!

I take them all into consideration! Just try to not be... too mean *.^

**Prologue:**

It felt like waking up from a one hundred year dream. Her body ached with the old cuts and bruises, but she couldn't see any of them. _W-where...? _ She asked herself, staring up at the ceiling, too tired to think straight. _I'm alive? It wouldn't hurt this bad if I wasn't. _She sighed, shifting in her battered greenish dress, her blood-stained blond hair curling in fat ringlets down to her stomach. The darkness was stifling, almost as though it clung to her in some strange way. Cold. In that moment she realized how cold she was. She also realized that she was in some kind of dark house, which smelled of rotting wood and creaked with the wind. Nothing like a museum. Nothing like an art gallery. Suddenly, she was worried. She had hoped for some kind of light to appear, but no such illumination occured, and so she decided to wander (the brisk air had woken her up by now). The house seemed to be multiple stories tall, but she couldn't see anything when she looked out the windows.

The room she was in was covered with red. A small bed lay in the middle, the rest of the room was simply furnished, with a mirror, a cabinet, and a few stuffed animals.

She spotted a diary on the desk.

"My sickness was going to kill me. So... I took her body from her. I lived on in her body. That's fine, right? Because we're 'friends.' She gave me her body... because we're 'friends.' So... today we should play some more. Right, Viola?"

The last word was crossed out with a reddish looking substance. She vaguely wondered if it was paint.

_Viola?_

She had never heard the name before. She was fairly sure her name was 'Mary' it was what everyone else had called her; so why did this book challenge that? She looked down at her shoes, past her tattered skirt, and frowned slightly.

The wood was real. Not painted, but real.

And suddenly, Mary was rather scared.

Because she wasn't in a Guertana painting anymore. She was somewhere else entirely.

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Sorry about the shortness of this one, but it IS a prologue. Also, hope all of my viewers like The Witch's House, because that's where I'm taking this plot! I might not be able to update very frequently, sorry for any inconvenience...

Love chu all~ Keep Reading :)

~Scar


	2. Chapter 1 - Yellow Blood

Disclaimer: I own nothing (unfortunately)! Also, I blame you for reading this, it's rated T for a reason, don't get too excited over it :P

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Author Note:

And thus, the long awaited update came, almost a year later. Yep, I suck at this, I know, but sit back and enjoy the show, cuz I'm gonna try to stick with this one and finally get another book done X3

~Scar

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Chapter 1:

Upon further explorations, Mary still hadn't found much out. The room she was in was interesting enough to hold her attention, and yet, there was so little to look at. "So... this is wood?" She murmured to herself as she smoothed her fingertips across the grainy surface of the dresser, before opening it and peering inside. "And this is fabric?" It felt soft and silky to the touch, a bright blue short, frilly dress, made for a girl just her size. She pulled the costume Guertana had chose for her off with a loud rip, and settled the new, soft, delicate clothing over her body. _I wonder how I got here... _She looked around for a painting, or some other reminder of her own home, but there was nothing; just a blackened window which stared at her almost angrily from its post on the wall.

"You're a greedy little one, now, aren't you?" The voice was soft, but still held a sharp tone, that shocked little Mary so much she quite jumped at the sound of it. Behind her, she heard the creak of an opening door, and the padding of footsteps closer towards her. With a deep, shaky breath, she managed to turn around, her eyes darting to all corners of the room. _Huh? I know I'm not hallucinating when I say I heard something... it even spoke too... _

"Where are you hiding, coward?" She said in the most bitter, harsh tone of voice she could manage. "Show yourself, you have a lot of nerve to call me greedy when you're nothing but a stupid coward!" She laughed, her voice never wavering once with the sway of fear.

"I've been 'showing myself' this whole time, not only are you greedy, but stupid too!" At this point, Mary felt something wet and cold brush against her skin, which twinged with irritation and disgust. She shivered, looking down at where the object seemed to have been. Sitting pompously at her feet, as if it hadn't a care in the world, was a black cat. "You don't look tasty at _all_."

"What's that supposed to mean? Stupid cat," she gave it a sharp kick, which displaced its furry body 5 feet across the room.

"You'll regret that later," it said plainly, as it stood, licking itself for a bit, and walked out of the open door, leaving Mary behind in the unfamiliar room.

"Stupid bastard. What an annoying cat!" Mary exclaimed, balling her hands into little fists. "I'll find my way out of this stupid house for sure! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She, at this point, kicked the wardrobe she had taken her nice new dress from, which shook it rather hardly. _Clink!_ The sound of metal against wood surprised Mary, as she stooped down to look at the curious object that had fallen from high up on top of the wardrobe where she could neither reach or see. It was small, and nicely decorated with an impressive flowery pattern. _Maybe I'd better old onto this, it might come in handy..._ She shoved the little key in her pocket, and twisted her hair up into a messy bun, out of her face. _Daddy doesn't like it when I put my hair up, but these ringlets do so often get in my way... Alright! Now, to get myself out of here..._ She took hesitant steps towards the door, following the trail of red right up to it, and resting her hand on the knob. _Why am I so on edge? For all I know, this is that stupid cat's house, there's nothing to be scared of. _And with that, she plunged through the doorway and into the unfamiliar upper corridor of the house. There seemed to be nothing out of place in this room, as opposed to the one of Mary's origin. The only sign of distress was a slight rumple in the carpet and a red trail to where there appeared to be a staircase entrance tucked away in the corner. On the table, a lonely rose was blooming in a gloomy vase, all by itself. "Poor flower, how lonely you must be," She stopped, and picked it up, kissing its soft petals with the rosy lips of a child; something strange happened then, the rose bled, it bled the color yellow, all over Mary's hands. She dropped it in shock, where it filled its little vase with yellow blood, Mary lifted her fingers to her mouth, tasting the strange fluid, and was happy to find it to be distinctly paint flavored. The taste comforted her, she felt an odd, sudden desire to bring the rose with her bloom in her breast, and picked up the vase with shaky hands. "Huh? Was that always there?" In the place where the vase had just stood, a single printed note on a thick white cardstock, staring back at her with hurriedly written cursive black writing.

_"Do you like roses, Mary?"_

In the distance, a lonely, loud gunshot fired, as Mary picked up the note with angry fingers, and dipped it into the paint until it was completely inundated, before removing it and smoothing it down on the table. She traced the letters with her fingertip, fire burning in her mind.

_"Yes."_

She left it there, and took her first step down the staircase, an inexplicable anger still held in her frame. "We'll see where this leads me, I suppose. I hope it's to somewhere safe, somewhere where I can see daddy again."

A second gunshot, this one echoed even louder than the first, followed by the sound of creaking footsteps up the stairs... coming in her direction.

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Gonna try to keep them over 1,000 words to make them worth your time, haha :P if you've got somethin' to say about the story, say it! I love hearing your opinions! PM me if there's something that's confusing you or if you're interested in the next (estimated) release date, thanks guys :*


	3. Chapter 2 - A Bitter Aftertaste

Disclaimer: I own nothing! And, I blame YOU for reading this! It's rated T for a reason, don't get too excited about it :P

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Author Note:

Alrighty! Here we are, Chapter 2, didn't expect it to come so soon, did you? Haha! A few things I wanted to quickly address about how this new fic will go down:

1) I use italic quotes to signify that an inanimate object is speaking (right, psycho, I know) you'd probably already noticed this in the previous book, but since a lot of my characters are paintings, flowers, and bodyless articles of clothing, it makes things easier for me. Just thought you might like to know :P

2) I promise I'll leave specific disclosures on chapters containing higher rates of profanity and/or gore or horror themes, that might make a few of you feel safer reading this, eh?

3) I'm not quite sure how I'm going to deal with the release dates of chapters, I'm thinking I'll try to post two a week at the moment, one on Friday and one on Sunday every week. This allows me a lot of buffer time to make sure the content isn't terrible. I'm also trying to write longer chapters so they don't seem too short.

PM me with any questions you might have on plot, mechanics, or scenery (I actually research my scenery a fair amount, so if I made a big blunder, I'd like for you all to point it out ;3 )

Thanks guys, sorry this Note was so long, here's the chapter!

Chapter 2:

"I'm not sure, so stop asking already," The cat murmured to the over-talkative blue daffodil. "Nobody really cares what you think anyways, God, you're too pretentious, really." He snickered, his bright yellow eyes never leaving her blue, thick petals. "And no, I don't know how she got here, it's strange really, she's not from our dimension. If I had to put a birth date on her, I'd say it was today, but what human develops at a pace that quickly? I'm pretty sure she's human, anyways... she smells human. She leaves too many unanswered questions; plus, she doesn't have a soul, only some cheap fake that's supposed to provide her the capacity of human emotion, honestly I have no idea what we're dealing with."

_"Oh won't you shut up for just one minute and let me speak? You pompous old cat, trying to avoid the matter at hand with trivial questions about our new house guest," _The daffodil retorted snottily, _"I do wonder, why you're in such a foul mood all the sudden? Don't tell me you grew attached to that two braided cutie Viola... how scandalous! Demons aren't supposed to get touchy-feely with their prey.__"_

"Disgusting! As if I'd ever be interested in a mortal, they're my playthings, they have no real value in this dimension anyways. Human souls just happen to taste better when they've been put through terror and trials, it's like smoking your meat before eating it. How could you see such a mundane act as romantic?"

_"But with Viola, didn't it go further than just aging a wine or culturing a ham? You seem to have been upset when her father-"_

"Don't presume to insult me, flower," he was angry by now. "I must be off, the little girl seems to be making progress, we'll see whether or not her soul is worth my time after all, if it can be salvaged." _I'm sure I'll be able to find a way._

_"Ah, well good luck to you with that, if you're not willing to admit the fact, I guess you can just keep walking your own naive path, I'm not going to stop you."_ He sighed, trotting off down the garden path, through the bush and back into the house, calmly making his way towards the dining room area of the house, where he could hear the cook preparing the evening meal and the young blonde traipsing around. _Feelings, for a human? That's as ridiculous an idea as a human falling in love with a beetle, how rude of her to assume... _But there was a sadness somewhere in his heart, it wasn't as if her soul hadn't tasted good, it was rich and soft to the palette, a nice meal after a 5 year anorexic period. It was the aftertaste that burned in this throat, a dark kind of 'what if?' that haunted the demon and made him feel queasy.

_What if? Viola, what if?_

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"Cat? Is that you?" Mary nervously peered into the darkness, the steps were getting closer and closer. "Answer me!" But she really required no answer, for the moment the utterance left her lips, two white shoes, one splattered with red, appeared. They were quite nice little shoes, which seemed to be enjoying their stroll up the staircase, they stooped just next to Mary, and turned towards her.

_"Do you like my shoes?"_ A voice echoed in Mary's head, sending tinges of pain down her spine, like a headache. _"I've gotten them dirty, how sad for me." _At this, they turned back on their path, and moved on. Mary watched them progress down the hallway, before entering the room she came from, the door slammed shut behind them. _How odd..._ She rubbed her temples a bit, before strengthening her resolve and pushing forwards. _I can't let myself be distracted! This is a time for action! Oh how the Lady in Yellow would scold me if she saw my present attitude, papa would be angry with me. _She shook her head, taking slow steps, since the staircase below her was too dark to see. Step after precarious step, deeper and deeper into the house. Around the time she was six steps down, the door to the staircase slammed behind her, encasing her in palpable darkness so thick and oppressive her breathing became shallow and forced. _I don't like the dark, I'm scared. Calm down, calm down. _Her shaky steps continued, the staircase felt like it went on forever, the heavy silence only made her more acutely aware of even the tiniest sounds her own presence was making. _Just make it to the bottom of this staircase, come on Mary, you can do this. "I'd watch your step if I were you," _a faint giggle followed the eerie voice's return in Mary's mind._ "It's slippery."_

Just at this very moment, Mary did, indeed, slip. The fall was short but hard, her skin split open on her knee, beginning to bleed badly. "Ah, I'm so stupid." The pain had cleared her head, and since the voice was gone, she was feeling refreshed, like someone who'd just had a gallon of ice water dumped over their head. She had fallen onto what appeared to be a landing where the stairs continued downwards, but she could see a faint trickle of light to her left, under what seemed to be a door. She tried the knob, but it appeared to be locked, her key didn't fit either. _My only option is down, right? _She thought to herself as she looked back up at the way she came, where fits of giggles seemed to be emanating from. Taking another deep breath, she descended the steps a lot more confidently than before, at the bottom, a glowing light appeared, this room was in much worse condition than the first had been, with rips in the floors and chairs strewn around. A large dining table resided in the center, with a long red table runner spread across it. Two places were set, shining china and crystal clear glasses, with a fork, a knife, and a spoon next to each. The glasses held an odd, grayish liquid, and the tips of the silverware were covered with it as well, all was illuminated by a bright, large candle in the center, surrounded by leaves and other fall themed decorations. There was a chopping sound coming from behind a door on the opposite side of the room, and the smell of something roasting teased Mary's nose, it didn't smell right though, something was off. Whatever had been leaving the red trail seemed to have gotten desperate by now, splatters of it were everywhere, Mary bent down to examine it, dipping her finger into one of the pools. It tasted nothing like paint. She looked around the room again, noticing an unlit fireplace which was bestrewn with cold, dead ashes.

"Pretty nice place, don't you think, little girl?" He said, in that same annoyingly superior voice.

"Ah, it's you again, how unpleasant." She smiled a bit as his ears flattened with annoyance. "What's up, were you looking for me?"

"Not particularly, you were just making so much noise I had to come by and see for myself what was going on," Mary flushed at his comment, looking down at her bare feet. "So uncivilized you don't even wear shoes? You're going to ruin our carpets!"

"Why are you so abrasive, anyways?"

"Why indeed..."

The couple settled into silence, and just stared at each other. "You don't even have a reason? And you think I'm the stupid one," Mary retorted softly, looking down.

"I guess I didn't really have the right," the cat said brusquely, as he jumped onto the table and began to groom his sleek fur. "You ought to fix yourself up, you know, dinner will be ready soon. The cook doesn't like it when his guests don't even have the decency to be dressed properly for the dinner table. Mary scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. "Think of it as a little quest to keep you preoccupied, here, I'll draw you a map to where we'll have you stay, you should be fairly comfortable there," the cat smiled. "I've got my own duties to preoccupy myself with until the meal, hurry there and get yourself done up nicely, meet me back her in a half hours time for the meal." Mary nodded reluctantly, afraid to be left on her own to wander through this giant house of horrors. The cat's map was simple enough to understand, however, and in no time, Mary was on her way.


	4. Chapter 3 - What it Means to be Human

Disclosure: I own nothing! Also, I blame you for reading this, it's rated T for a reason, don't get too excited over it :P

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Release Date: 5/15/15

Author Note: Here you are, Missing Portraits 3rd chapter! And it's even on time! Wow, aren't I impressive? This one's a bit short, there will be a lot more exposition in Sunday's chapter, so I guess you can look forward to that.

:) Hope you enjoy:

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Chapter 3:

Almost the second she was out of the black cat's sight, an unease settled over Mary's shoulders, draping over her like a cloth. Something about him had calmed her, and now, the eeriness of the house had sunk back into her bones, leaving her in her previous terrified state. _What am I getting so worked up over? Goodness. _She took a deep, shaky breath, as she pressed forwards. The little room she had entered was quite compact, containing only a desk with a book open atop it and two flower vases. She realized that she wasn't holding her paint filled little container anymore, and wondered what had happened to it, thinking back though, she couldn't remember. Her fingers were still dyed with the same yellow pigment, which was just illuminated by the flickering candles in the room. This room had tears in its floor as well, which Mary nimbly avoided, trying not to get any splinters in her bare, unprotected feet. She entered the main foyer, where through the little windows at the top of two large, thick double doors a beautiful medley of orange could just be seen: the setting sun. Mary sighed happily, this room didn't hold the characteristic oppressiveness the rest of the house seemed to; she rested her fingertips against the wood, looking down at her feet. The red trail stopped at the doorway, where she assumed it continued on the other side. Oddly enough, though, it seemed to follow two different paths in this room, one splitting towards the entrance and one towards the direction where Mary's little bedroom was located. She followed the trail, turning at the narrow, claustrophobic corridor which branched off into her room. The soft ticking of a clock suddenly came into earshot, sending chills down her spine. _Tick, tock, tick, tock. _So rhythmic, so engrossing, she found herself stopped in front of an antique looking grandfather clock, looking up at its pretty face where all the numbers were scrambled in quite the wrong way. It was currently 14:95, Mary wondered what time that exactly was mildly, as she ripped her gaze from it, and continued into the little room to her right.

This room was in complete disarray, furniture thrown about, red splatters and pools of blackish looking liquid, there were no other doors leading out from the room, which confused Mary completely. _"Do you like my dress?" _The voice rang out, catching Mary by surprise. _"I've gotten it dirty, how sad for me," _it continued, as it approached from across the room. "It's very nice indeed," Mary politely replied, as she curtseyed, the dress mimicked her, and a giggle rang out in her mind. "Do you think you could show me to my room? I'm rather lost..." _"Your room? All of the rooms in this house belong to Viola, my dear, don't get carried away." _"Oh, but the cat said-" _"Don't trust that masked demon, he's up to no good. Did he send you with a map?" _Mary held out the thick piece of paper to her, swallowing a lump of fear in her throat. _"Ah, you're not lost at all! It's just in the next room over, what are you having troubles with?" _"But, there's no door..." _"Ah, I see, human's and their doors, sometimes things aren't that convenient." _The dress swished its way across the room, stopping in front of a large wardrobe. _"Through here should be just fine."_

"Thank you," Mary curtseyed once more, before disappearing into the mass of old, moth bitten clothes, emerging on the other side in a ball of tangled scarves and coats. "Now to get myself looking presentable," she murmured to herself, as she sat down in front of a small vanity stand and looked at her hair in the mirror. _What on Earth am I supposed to do about this? _As she combed through it with a little brush she found conveniently resting on the counter top, she mused to herself about her odd situation, and about the things she knew, didn't know, and needed to find out. _It's obviously not the gallery, but if it's not the gallery, where am I? How on earth did I get here? I've never heard of any painting making it out alive... unless... _Mary shook her head. _That's impossible, there's no way, absolutely no way... _She rested her arms on the table, staring at herself in the mirror. _Right?_

"I bet right now, at this very moment, you're asking yourself whether or not you're really human. Well? Am I right? Did I guess right, _Mary_?"

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The cat did not, in fact, have any pressing business as he had claimed; and was thus left extremely bored, waiting for Mary's return. The house was big and empty, he could always go talk to the flowers, but was that really his only idea of fun? He shook his head, no. The cook was still chopping away, the kitchen had begun to emit smoke into the spacious dining room. The cat sneezed a bit, the smell was acrid and distasteful. With a large spring off of the table, he trotted over to the doorway which led towards the entrance to this house of horrors. He could see Mary's bloody footprints on the floor, where she had walked to get to her room. _I wonder what's taking her so long..._ He paused for a bit, grooming his fur atop the table with the book on it. It was a rather nice book, it had that great smell that seemed to dwell in corner book shops; finding the smell to be rather pleasing himself, the cat settled himself on top of its pages, snuggling into the old, worn paper, and wearily closing his eyes.

Seconds later, they flew open again, as a loud, shrill scream permeated the silence of the room. The cat's fur bristled, and he stood upright, all drowsiness shook from him like water from a dog's coat after a swim. _That... it couldn't have been... Viola?! _He dashed off, his feet moving against his mind's will. _I have to see her, just one more time... _Out into the main hall, down the claustrophobic corridor without even a glance at the grandfather clock's handsome face. In the wardrobe, and out the other side, just in time to see Viola's possessed body give the new little blond girl a sweet, short kiss.


	5. Chapter 4 - Dinner with a Monster

Disclosure: I own nothing! Also, I blame YOU for reading this~ it's rated T for a reason, don't get too excited about it ;)

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Author Note:

Here we are, I wrote most of this today so sorry if it seems too rushed. I tried my best to make it a bit longer to make up for Friday's chapter. Also, I'm changing the genre a bit because I have a feeling there will be a lot more little romance scenes in this one than in Forgotten Portrait... maybe horror/romance? Does that sound good?

Hmm... Maybe.

Well, that's all I've got for you guys, so without further delay, here's chapter 4!

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Chapter 4:

For some reason, the sight sent a red hot fury through the cats body, and it angrily hissed and spat at Viola's form. "Ah, looks like we have company, Mary," Viola murmured, her eyes settling on the cat. "Kuroneko... how intrusive of you," she laughed, the sound was delicate and beautiful. _I can barely stand seeing her body being used like this, it's so wrong... _He sighed, as his fur smoothed back down against his supple, lean body.

"Ellen, so you've taken her body then? Congratulations, perhaps you'd like me to start calling you Viola now?" He said it with an obviously bitter tone, which only made her laugh.

"Why so angry? Didn't you enjoy swallowing up her soul, _demon?_" Viola laced her fingers through Mary's, and she swung their arms up and down n unison. "It's been a while since I've had a playmate, won't you let me enjoy my fun?" She smiled over at Mary, who was staring at her wide-eyed.

"You said something earlier... something about..." Mary started, slowly.

"Shh! That was girl talk! We can't let him in on it!" She laughed, jabbing a finger in the cat's direction. "Come on, you've spent enough time fixing your appearance, let's get going to dinner, would you like to accompany us Kuroneko?" The cat rolled his eyes, walking over and jumping up onto the table, from which he leaped onto Mary's shoulders, draping himself comfortably around her neck.

"I guess so, I _am_ awfully hungry," the cat murmured, his whiskers brushing against Mary's slender neck.

"Ah, Mary! How lucky for you! The cook's food is amazing, I remember trying it for the first time," she paused, her face lighting up with a bright smile, "it's delicious really, quite delicious..." Mary stiffened a bit below the cat's body, he vaguely wondered why.

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Mary felt much safer with the cat draped across her shoulders, his warm little body brought her an odd sense of comfort. She couldn't help but feel at least a bit worried though, about eating. She'd never eaten anything before, never in her life, paintings and gallery walk-throughs didn't have to eat, their sense of hunger was controlled somehow, and it just never really crossed their minds.

The corridor felt thousands of times shorter when walking in a group, and the house didn't seem quite as horrible, somehow. Mary's eyes slowly lowered, and she found herself looking back at the red stains on the floor, they were drying quickly. "-Speaking of which, will you clean these floors for me sometime Kuroneko? I don't want any trace of her left behind." _Her? Kuroneko did mention that she had taken someone else's body... I wonder what really happened._

"Yeah, sure," his voice sounded softer than usual, sad almost. _He sounded bitter, angry earlier- maybe she was important to him somehow? But then again, Viola said he had 'eaten her soul' and that he had 'enjoyed' it. _Mary shook her head, and felt the cat's claws dig into her shoulders as he shifted to a better position. "Whoa, watch it Mary, you trying to kill me?" _Ah, the way he says my name... that's the first time he's said it, huh._

The troupe continued on their way, until they reached the dining room. Somehow, the cook had known that there would be three guests, and three places were set at the table, their plates full of smoky, dark colored food. The glasses were filled with a different liquid than before, it was vibrant green and looked thick. Mary took her place at the table, settling herself down into the creaky old chair; just then, the candle at the middle of the table blew out. _I'm scared, no- please, I'm scared of the dark- don't make me. If I stay here too long, I'll start to remember things. _Mary buried her face in her hands, biting her lip. But just seconds later, the candle light came back on, and what it illuminated made Mary gasp with shock. In Kuroneko's place stood a 6' tall, handsome young man, he had a long, ragged scar encircling his neck, his eyes were the same shade of gold the cat's had been. "I don't particularly enjoy being in this form, Viola." He sighed, and Mary admired the way his beautiful lips just parted... she found herself blushing slightly. _Wow, he's really gorgeous._

"Ah, it's not like you can't deal with it for a few meals each day. It's really rather awkward to dine up to the table with a cat, you know," she snickered, as Kuroneko's ears flattened slightly (they were the last remaining evidence of his previously feline form).

"At least this way you don't talk down to me as much, I guess," he mumbled, as he took a bite of his meat. His face contorted into a wide range of emotions before he settled on a blank one, and continued eating. Mary stared down at her own plate, wondering how eating was even done. She did her best to copy the cat, rolling her fork around a pile of noodles, and bringing it up towards her mouth, tentatively taking a bite. Her mouth exploded with flavor, some good, some bad, making her confused and dazed. It was like a painting, really, the soft purples and yellows of the good tastes highlighted by the blacks and blues of the sharper, more bitter ones. Mary swallowed, and put her fingers to her mouth, surprise all over her face. She noticed the cat staring at her, his ears perked up in interest.

"How does it taste?"

"Like purple, blue, yellow and black," Mary murmured, looking down. _Yellow. _Tears she couldn't control dripped out of her big, green eyes. _Why am I sad? Why does that color fill me with a bitter depression?_

_"Mary... it's all okay now... don't spend too much time missing me, okay? I want you to enjoy your time on Earth as much as you can. Please, just do that much for me." _

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she unwillingly slipped into the world of dreams.

* * *

"Mary!" He exclaimed, rushing to her side and catching her falling head.

"I guess we imported a rather fragile toy, didn't we?" In the absence of her proposed new body, Ellen's true personality began to show. "It's kind of a pain, dealing with someone who's still learning how to be human."

"So you knew about it too, the fact that she's so young," he picked Mary's dozing form up in his arms. "May I ask how?" Viola laughed.

"I have a friend who's into painting, let's just say. He stumbled upon her, broken and bleeding, when she emerged from the canvas, and had her shipped over to me; a real work of art, isn't she?"

"You're sick."

"Don't you think her body will suit me better than this garbage? I'll age at a much slower rate too, slow enough that we can sever this contract once you eat her soul. I'm sure it'll be tasty, with a bit of seasoning and preparation."

"Don't insult me, bitch." His fingers gripped the small girls form, and he held her closer against his chest. "We all know that you're the real monster here." She laughed, the beautiful, soft laugh that still made his heart flutter.

"You _loved _her. I knew it, I can see it in your eyes, even now. You're so much easier to read as a human." _Screw this. _With an angry sigh, he walked out of the dining room, hearing the clink of silverware as Viola began to eat her meal. _Was it that obvious?_

_That I loved you?_

_Viola?_


	6. Chapter 5 - Memories

Disclosure: I own nothing! Also, I blame YOU for reading this, it's rated T for a reason, don't get too excited about it. **Extra Disclaimer: A bit of gore in this one, not too hardcore, also, this chapter is kind of sad so be prepared for that. **

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Author Note:

Sorry this one was late guys :( I was really busy throughout the entirety of this past week and I didn't really want to scramble to produce something that was half-quality. Also, in response to the review critiquing my decision on the romance of this novel, I've taken your thoughts into account and will try to accommodate for them in my future writing, your opinion was greatly appreciated. I'll also be explaining more on why Mary's personality is so different from the first novel in future chapters, so hopefully that will clarify your 2nd concern for you.

Thank you all for keeping up with this story, even though its super late, hope you enjoy this chapter!

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Chapter 5:

The Gallery was bright and happy, when Mary first woke up there. Her dad had taken her by the hand, with a warm welcome, and kissed her lightly atop her blond, curl filled hair. The memories were almost too pleasant, not a single dark stain on the colorful planets which hung from above her head. This room was entitled 'Galaxy', every square inch was painted on, filled with glistening, bright stars. All of the ladies were there, every color reflected on the canvas. Mary had never been happier in her life, than on the day of her birth into the Gallery. She missed those days, even know. In the dream, she watched her father smile down at her.

_"-and allow us to all be overjoyed, with the entrance of a new princess to our wondrous world of color. Yellow, I'm counting on you to be her mentor, I suppose you're alright with that?" _

_"Yes, of course, father."_

_"Ah, now I must be off, it's about time I tended to the Green wing, I hear they've been having some issues lately... a mistake seems to have gotten out of its canvas." Guertana had left 'Galaxy' through a pristine white door. It was then that Yellow had crawled over to me, extending her hand towards mine, and shaking it firmly._

_"I promise to take good care of you, princess," she breathed in a color as pure and sweet as her namesake. "Let's get going to your room, shall we?" She led me out of 'Galaxy' and through the White wing, smiling brightly the entire time. The mannequins bowed their headless necks in my direction, some even taking the liberty of curtsying for me. Eventually, the ground became a lot more sketchy and rough, and the scent of the world around me became heavily that of crayons. Yellow lead me to a cute little house where I was to stay, and dropped me off. I spent the rest of the day settling in, putting all of my nice new things in order..._

_Each day, Guertana would visit me at least once, always bringing a new flashy, shiny gift. _

_"Ooh~ How does this one work daddy?" I would ask him, as I played with it in altogether the wrong way atop his lap. He would wrap his arms around me and laugh._

_"In any way you want it to, princess," he would say, before attacking me with tickles and kisses._

_Those days were the brightest I had. The most wonderful of all, the days when the white wing was **really** white, when 'Galaxy' was still filled with happy stars... I honestly don't remember when things started changing. _

_It started with the disappearance of my father. I waited, and waited, and waited, but his soft footsteps never came. Never. Not for weeks, months. I started to grow exceedingly lonely in my comfortable little cottage- the one that had begun to feel like a cage. I found out from the Lady in Green's gossiping that Guertana had become obsessed with a girl, a real human one, something I could never be. Jealousy had burned through my veins. What gave **her** the right to take away my daddy from me? I began to watch over the pair with one of the toys father had given me to oversee the paintings in the gallery. Eventually, I grew restless, fabricated my own rose, and headed out. When I met the girl, anger had pulsated through me, but I had maintained a child-like demeanor and attempted to become her 'friend.' We had adventured through a gallery I had known all too well, our pale white hands with fingers interlocked, the skin of children, soft and smooth, held close together. Daddy hadn't recognized me when I met up with him again, he looked inexplicably different, more wild somehow. I had meandered the halls with the pair, feeling more and more left out as Ib and 'Garry' (as he now called himself) became closer and closer. I remember thinking 'I'll kill her! I'll take my place back with daddy!' I had been tossed aside like an old, worn out toy that just wasn't fun anymore._

_In the end, when she burned my painting, I hadn't been overly sad. The pain was almost welcome. I must have thought I deserved it somehow. 'If I wasn't good enough for my own father, what makes me good enough for life?' I remember asking myself. That was when White had reached out to me, and pulled me back into the horrible world of the living._

_My conscious had fallen back, deciding to reside only in the back of my mind, for fear of making another fatal mistake again. I barely even controlled my own actions, driven only by a crazed longing for revenge. Revenge on **her, **it was her fault anyways. She was why I was going through all this hell. She was why daddy had left me. I wanted blood, I smelled it everywhere. Following the trail led me to them, her and my father, kissing. KISSING. The anger that had coursed through me had really driven me off the edge, and my conscious had finally decided that maybe it was time to give up after all. _

_I only really woke up when I was eating her. The soft, supple, distinctly human skin that was easily crushed between my sharp teeth. The hot, salty blood which tasted nothing of paint that flooded my mouth and almost made me gag. I tried to stop myself, but the hunger had consumed me. The desire to have back something which could never be returned. The broken child who was still, somewhere deep inside, waiting for daddy to come home. Waiting for him to show her his wonderful new inventions and tell her his ridiculous stories. I had cried as I continued to devour his love in life, the beautiful red rose I had always aspired to be as wonderful as. _

_Then he had killed me. My own father, ripped me into pieces beside his dying love. As I died, I heard the beautiful poem he spoke for her, the one that only described my life too well. I wished that I could go back somehow, become a better person, be a more fitting daughter. I wondered if there had been any other outcome but this. Was this fate? Was it my fault? He sung a lullaby as I fell into a dark sleep, sung, as he committed suicide. The tell-tale rip of each petal almost hurt more than all of the cuts and tears that now made up my body..._

_And then I had woken up, in an odd room with odd furnishings. Which had real wood and the same red liquid I had grown to hate. It was called the Witch's House, and it was warm. **Really** warm. There were dark stains here and there, and I knew it would never replace those precious memories of times long ago with my father that I still cherished. _

_I couldn't help but miss my father, but if somehow I had been given a second chance, I wasn't going to waste it feeling bad for myself or anyone around me. I was going to love and be loved, experience everything life had to offer me. I was going to live for my late father, step-mother, and family, but mostly, for myself. I wish Yellow could see me now._

And I think we can all agree, that Mary deserved the second chance she was given.


	7. Chapter 6 - Moonlight

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Also, I blame YOU for reading this! It's rated T for a reason, don't get too excited.

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Author Note:

Anyways, hello again kiddos :) This will be written mainly in my traditional 3rd person omniscient (ugh, I feel so uncomfortable writing in 1st nowadays) from the Cat's general scope... This chapter was held back by my previous late update and memorial day, sorry bout that, hope you enjoy!

To JustAnotherAnon (the rest of you readers feel free to skip this unless you're really interested haha :P): Thank you so much for really dissecting my work for me, the aspect of writing I really struggle with is the plot and I'm glad you can see past my flowery writing and really tell me what I'm doing wrong. I sincerely love the way you give **constructive** criticism, without being a total jerk. I'm trying to take all of your musings into account and work with them, I hope I've already taken care of the first review? (Matters concerning the cat will be addressed in this and the upcoming chapters [for the most part I altered his personality so I wouldn't have only heavy-villain archetypal characters in my story, helps with my plot I guess? I know that's a weak argument, haha, but it's the best I've got in that regard. I'll make him more evil for you though :)])ALSO: I'd like to discuss for a bit some of the things I've disagreed with that you brought up in the 2nd review, especially your first point. In my opinion, the feelings Mary has for Ib are a kind of envious resentment with manifests itself as a driving anger. When Ib is a child, Mary is trying to learn from her (to impress her dad) and so forms a tenuous complicated love/hate relationship with her. Also, bleeding into the second comment, this statement nearing the end of my chapter was meant to be bitter; she still harbors feelings of love and sadness over the loss of her father, and can't really let go of that odd friendship she made with Ib. And I'm no good at happy endings, but I'll try and get it closer to bittersweet than full on train-wreck like the last story.

:D thanks again, I love seeing your comments and really appreciate your time. If you have or obtain an account in the future maybe it would be better to discuss this over PM?

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Chapter 6:

Once he had settled the body of the young girl down into her blankets of her small, pastel bed, in her dark, tucked away room, the cat decided that it was about time that he left this oppressive house of horrors. He hadn't taken a walk in what felt like years...

The air outside was thin and soft, the sun had set a few hours ago, which left the coolness of the night strong against his face. He shifted back into his previous feline form, it felt much better inside his compact, supple fur coat. He slunk down the main path, the moon chasing him as he broke into a wild dash, a free run for the town. Past the red trail, without a second glance. Away. Away from everything. That was what he needed in that instant. On and on, bounds with his sturdy, powerful legs led him further and further away from that place he was dreading returning to. The lights of the village twinkled endearingly at him, as he approached he heard the common lack of bustle which came around only at night. Somehow, the scene reminded him of days long passed.

Ellen and his contract had been enacted when he was a much less experienced demon than he was nowadays. It was sealed in glistening, fresh blood; which showed up harshly against the white of their skin. It was a soul-pact, not something you just waltz your way out of when you think you've had enough; this was much more... permanent. The previous him had always shook off any doubt with a typical 'I'll always need to eat, right?' he was a demon after all, what was going to change so dramatically for him to not want to eat anymore? And he had loved eating. Ravenous, always hungering for the next pure soul that he could get his dirty, clawed fingertips on. When he ate, he didn't even really taste the lives he was sucking away, not until Viola, that is. Viola... watching her had been, in some strange way, different. He felt such a strong longing to give her hints, to catch her when she fell, to rescue her when she died. It was complete taboo. Ellen only liked taking the bodies of those that had passed through her horrible little maze, her death trap of pain and suffering, without any aid. Only when a soul had been put through strain and wear, would he, in the past, enjoy eating it; so he had followed her down this road of monstrosity, through a dark tunnel with no end in sight. He was starting to feel oppressed now. The walls of that same tunnel he had once felt so confident in were squeezing the life out of him slowly, gradually taking away any will that he had to continue down its winding path. As he crossed into the town, he heard footsteps in the distance, heavy, hard footsteps, like the kind Viola's father had had. A tall, dark figure stepped out into his pathway, a heavy ax held taught against his shoulder. He looked exhausted from a seemingly tough day at work, his back was slumped and his shoulders drooped; but that wasn't all he held within himself, there was a glistening, distinctly human hope. Hope that glimmered bright against his eyelashes, sparkling like the sun in the pure absence of it. Kuroneko stared up at him, his small gold eyes taking in all that hope like a sunbather lapping up the rays.

"Ah! A black cat..." his eyes lowered to meet Kuroneko's. "What are you doing all alone in the middle of town? Dont you have somewhere to be?" Kuroneko shook his head mutely, looking down at the gravel road beneath his paws. "Come along then, I'll get you some food." Kuroneko's ears perked up at that, and he jumped up, following the loggers lazy, large steps towards his quaint cottage, where the bustle of children could still be heard, even at this late hour. Even as a demon, his palette still had room for the occasional piece of human food. He hadn't had the good stuff in forever, let's face it, the cook was a bit too creative. The second the door opened, a chorus of happy screams of 'daddy!' rang out, and 4 children, the eldest of which appeared to be around 9 in human years, jumped on the logger just as he was putting down his ax. "Woah there! You guys have got to be more careful when I've got my ax on me," he affectionately ruffled the sandy blonde hair on their little heads. His wife approached, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"I tried to get them to go to bed, but they were dead set on staying up and waiting for their father to get home," she smiled, that same radiating hope reflecting off of her crooked, non-white teeth. "Have you got an appetite? I've cooked enough for 10, at least, that's what it looks like." She giggled.

"Speaking of food, I brought a hungry little guy... eh? Where'd he go? He seemed so excited too..." But Kuroneko was already running, as fast as he could. The sight of so much joy and so much tenderness, such daily acts of common happiness... It was enough to trigger his gag reflex. It hurt to watch anything as superficial as that. He shook his fur violently, as if trying to get rid of the mushy, contagious feelings that had blossomed in his heart from watching such a warming scene. He walked back to the house slowly, his eyes always cast down at the now moonlit pavement. _This moonlight is like me, an imitation, something that doesn't push back the darkness even far enough to show his own face. I'm a living lie. I kill people for fun._ He shook himself again. _When did I start having these uncharacteristic thoughts? Was it starting with Viola? Did she soften me? Maybe it was because her soul was full of those warm, delicate memories that I so love to devour..._ He really did wonder. _If what Ellen was saying is true, wouldn't that mean that Mary doesn't have any of these kind of memories? Just those of despair and darkness? Maybe if I took a bite of hers, I'd get back to my old self..._

_But then... would it taste good?_

_I guess everyone needs a bit of a shock to their system once in a while, the age of the specimen might enhance the flavor a bit._ He found himself at the site where Viola had been shot earlier this past week. _Maybe I should give her a bit of time to simmer..._ But all thoughts of food left his mind as he noticed something was off. Terribly, horribly wrong.

He took off in a run, shifting human to increase the distance he could cover.

Because Ellen's old body wasn't there.

And no animal would touch that rotten thing.

No animal but him.


End file.
